


Supermarket Sweep

by StacPolly



Series: Supermarket Sweep [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 10:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2464439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StacPolly/pseuds/StacPolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malfoy gets more than he bargained for when he enters the seemingly bizarre world of the Muggle supermarket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supermarket Sweep

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Supermarket Sweep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269117) by [MyLittleSecret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLittleSecret/pseuds/MyLittleSecret)



> Inspired by this week's protest in a Brighton supermarket after two women were thrown out for a 'disgusting' kiss

 

“No, _that_ is disgusting,” admonishes Hermione, poking her morning’s copy of the Muggle _Guardian_.

Harry looks up from his tea with minimal interest. There’s always something in that rag to upset Hermione.

She thrusts the paper between his face and the cup. “Look, two women gave each other a quick kiss in a supermarket in Brighton, and they were forced to leave because a customer complained it was disgusting. In _Brighton_ ,” she repeats, shaking her head.

Harry takes a look at the headline, “Just when you think we’re getting somewhere-” he comments.

“I can’t believe the supermarket did that,” says Hermione. “Bad move too - given the size of their gay customer base down there.”

Harry doesn’t ask how she knows that - ever since the revelations of his twenty-first birthday, she has added gay rights - Muggle and Wizarding, although the latter with less success - to her internal list of marginalised groups that need championing.

“It’s half-term next week, have you thought about where we’re going yet?” asks Ron, following Rosie into the kitchen. She’s only half-dressed and he’s attempting to put her school tights on whilst she attempts to ride Bruno. It’s not going well.

“I’m not responsible for everything around here,” says Hermione, but Harry knows she’s just sniping due to lack of coffee - Ron has long understood that there are two parents and two careers in this family, as well as one exuberant five year old.

“Muggle schools are very picky about when you take holidays,” says Ron, holding Rosie by one foot. “So where ever we go it’s going to be hellish, kids everywhere.”

“You can’t just take children out of school every time you fancy a holiday,” says Hermione distractedly as she tries to prevent Bruno from swiping up all the breakfast crumbs with a big, pink tongue.

Ron exchanges a glance with Harry, “You can in the Wizarding world.”

Harry studies the paper, with intent - there’s no way he’s getting involved in one of their caffeine-free arguments again. He almost regrets coming over now, but Hermione’s got morning sickness and Ron needs to be at the Ministry for an early meeting, so he’s offered to drop Rosie at school on the way in to work.

He laughs, “Have you seen the rest, ‘Mione? Apparently the student union are planning a sort of gay revenge snog next Monday. Can you imagine if someone just wandered in there!”

“Shh,” cautions Hermione, with a glance at Rose.

“ _I_ know what a snog is,” she announces. “It’s when Bruno kisses daddy’s feet and they get all slobbery.”

Her mother looks nauseated and Harry gives Ron a look. “I really don’t want to know Rosie. How about you find your satchel and we’ll go through your homework.”

Hermione gives him a grateful smile. “I think I need to spend some time in the bathroom. Again. I don’t know how we’re going to cope on holiday next week. I’m wondering if we should ask Molly to help out.”

“Why don’t I come?” Harry asks. He’s owed a ton of annual leave. “If you don’t mind the intrusion,” he adds. Sometimes he has to remember that he’s not actually part of their close knit little family, however hard they try to include him.

“You’re always welcome, Harry, you know that,” says Hermione from the doorway.

“Please do,” whispers Ron when it’s safe. “She’s very hormonal, it’ll help in more ways than one if you’re there.”

“Happy to oblige,” he replies opening Rosie’s maths book. He’s got nothing better to do and it’s not like he can dig sandcastles and dams on his own.

\------------------------------------------------

  
“Brighton,” he says blankly on Wednesday. “I thought you said we were going to Bournemouth.

“Fully booked,” says Ron. “We left the arrangements a little late, what with everything going on.”

“We?” says Hermione, ominously, and Harry hastens to appease her.

“Found some decaffeinated Earl Grey,” he says, proffering the box.

“Thank you Harry, that’s so thoughtful,” she says with a significant glance at the kettle. Ron hurries to put it on.

“I bumped into Andromeda the other day and she said she and Teddy are going down to Brighton for a few days. We’ll try to arrange to meet up on the beach. If it’s not raining,” she adds, glaring at the window.

\-----------------------

Over the weekend Hermione seems a little better, despite a brief session of retching after Flooing to the Wizarding hotel just off the high street.

“Thought we could go to that supermarket tomorrow,” she says brightly, on Sunday evening after dinner. “Take part in the kiss-in. It would be good for Rosie to see a proper protest,” she adds. “Her primary school isn’t the most liberal and I don’t want her adopting prejudices.”

“Who am I supposed to kiss?” asks Harry. “I absolutely refuse to snog Ron.”

Ron pales. “I really don’t want to think about that.”

“I really didn’t want to think about Bruno giving you a toe-job, but it’s stuck in my head now,” retorts Harry.

“ _I’ll_ kiss Ron,” says Hermione. “As long as he uses mouthwash. And you, well, I’m sure you’ll find someone Harry.”

He glares at her over his whisky. “If this is one of your periodic attempts to set me up, ‘Mione, I have to say you’ve sunk to a new level. It’s a bloody supermarket, not a dating club.”

“There’s a supermarket in Hackney which has a gay singles night,” she returns hopefully.

Harry holds up a firm hand - there’s only so much meddling a man will take.

“Alright, we’ll go tomorrow, but you’re not signing me up for anything.”

\------------------------

It’s an absolute crush and Ron ends up carrying Rosie on his shoulders, from which vantage point she reports back to Harry and Hermione. They’ve found themselves in the frozen fish aisle, unable to see the action in the check out area due to sheer weight of be-flagged students, supporters and the occasional bemused shopper.

“There are lots of cameras, mummy," says Rosie, smiling and waving her little rainbow flag which Hermione has, on the spur of the moment, transfigured from a sandcastle flag.

“Oooh, look, there are two ladies already kissing over there," she adds. “You’re not supposed to kiss yet," she bellows and the students spring apart, grinning.

Somebody taps the tannoy, coughs, announces - “For health and safety reasons,” - there’s a groan - “We need to do one big kiss and leave. I’ll do a slow count down.” There’s a pause, “Five, -”

Bugger. Harry had been hoping to look around, sidle up to someone not completely hideous, and hope for the best, but in the crush he hasn’t even been able to see the people at his back. Hermione and Ron are already snogging, actually snogging, in front, while Rosie whoops and starts chanting ‘Mummy and Daddy kissing in a supermarket -”

He turns round, reaches, and looks -

Into the silvery blue eyes - the bemused, startled and ever so slightly terrified silvery blue eyes - of a man he hasn’t seen in years.

“Potter!” whispers a strained voice. “What the fuck is going on?”

He can’t resist, “It’s a kiss-in. We, er, well, we have to kiss,” he explains.

“Kiss? No, what?” says Malfoy, backing up to no avail as the crowd pushes him closer to Harry. “Is - is - this _norma_ l?”

“Oh yes.” He smiles. “You always have to kiss in a Muggle supermarket. First time?” he asks.

Malfoy nods. He’s flushed and panicked looking and it strikes Harry somewhere sweet.

“This is - You’re a -,” Malfoy starts.

“A man, oh yes,” says Harry.

“But -”

“One!” screams the tannoy and there’s silence. Everyone’s kissing, and it’s them, just them.

Malfoy’s body is angled away, but there’s no-one else, and anyway, Harry can see his eyes. Darkening eyes, eyes which flick down to his mouth and up again, flustered, disbelieving, and yes, wanting.

And in that second Harry wants too. He catches hold of a warm, ever so slightly stubbly jaw, and bends down. There’s a gasp that’s almost a sigh as Malfoy turns up his face to meet him - and it was only ever meant to be a peck, but he finds his hands sliding down to sharp, denim-clad hips as he dips and presses into soft open lips which respond enthusiastically to his. He presses again and, as Malfoy just folds against him, his intentions take flight. As he deepens the kiss, a warm hand wraps around his waist, stroking inside his shirt; then another threads through the hair at the nape of his neck, and he’s shivering and lost, utterly utterly lost.

There are cheers and camera flashes, and a shocked gasp. Harry pulls back, looks up, breathless and disorientated.

“Oh,” says Malfoy, softly. Dazed, heated eyes meet his, “I only came in for some tea,” he whispers, eyes never leaving Harry’s.

“What?”

“Aunt Andromeda,” says Malfoy. “She - she sent me. I just came to get her some tea. It -.” He looks round wildly like he’s going to see a box of tea bags amongst the protesters and journalists and flags.

“We’re in the frozen fish aisle,” says Harry, still in a befuddled state of _wanting_.

“Muggles eat frozen fish?” says Malfoy, faintly. “Like ice cream, but fish? That’s disgus -”

“No, you idiot,” says Harry, and before Malfoy gets a chance to be affronted he slips an arm around his waist, pulls him flush with his body. Kisses him.

“Get a room!” shouts someone, and Harry flicks them the ‘v’. He’s not stopping now.

  
“Time to go,” comes the call and Harry grabs Malfoy by the arm.

“Free rainbow cookies,” says Ron, as they’re herded towards the door.

“Free cookies, fish ice cream, kissing -” mutters Malfoy, shaking his head in bewilderment, as Harry leads him from the shop by the hand. By the looks of him he’s not safe to be left alone.

Away from the bright lights of the store they pause as a group of older women give them the thumbs up and wave at Rosie.

“Malfoy, Dra-” Harry begins but with a last wild look around, Malfoy pulls away and he’s - gone.

“What the -?” he says, staring into the small Malfoy sized space in the crowd.

“He _Disapparated_?” says Hermione, blankly.

Harry lets his arms drop, turns, looks at Hermione.

“You don’t seem very surprised by all this.” He has a sneaking suspicion that he has, after all, been set up in a supermarket.

She looks at him, searching his eyes for _something_.

“A little surprised,” she admits at last. “Andromeda has been saying how she wishes Draco could find happiness, and that he doesn’t seem to have realised that the world is changing. She was hoping that Brighton might help him understand that he’s not alone, that there are places he could go and be accepted. And I, - well, I just suggested she send him to the supermarket. I didn’t expect - _that_ \- to happen.” She pauses, shrugs. “Although perhaps I should have.”

“What do I do now?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know,” she admits, and she sounds surprised. “This was - unexpected.”

\-------------------

The next morning Andromeda’s owl arrives bearing _The Guardian_ , an irate post-it stuck below - not across - Harry notices, the picture that must have been taken at the exact moment of their second kiss.

“Bloody hell,” says Ron, leaning over the breakfast table and wrinkling his nose. “Is this one of those owl-sex things?”

Harry looks at the note again, “I don’t think that’s quite how he meant it,” he says. Then he thinks, grins, and scrawls a reply.

“Just going to buy some tea,” he tells Ron. “Don’t wait up.”

 

 

 


End file.
